Oil and Water
by midtowngirl89
Summary: SethMarissa oneshot. It’s the nights he remembers, the ghostly hours, when neither could sleep and the beach was so near.


Summary: Seth/Marissa. It's the nights he remembers, the ghostly hours, when neither could sleep and the beach was so near. Set post-finale summer.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Josh Schwartz has decided to post-pone our wedding, so I still do not own the OC. So, so close, I tell you. If you'll excuse me, I have some cake decorations to approve

A/N: Seth and Marissa…wow, I'm branching out. Couldn't think of any good SS stories, is more like it. So, I don't know how S and M got together, or if they broke up with their respective partners, so I'm giving you the liberty to think of something yourself. Enjoy!

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

He's not sure where he is, because these aren't his sheets, and the garish mirror on the nightstand is reflecting an image that he knows isn't his. He leans closer. A teenaged boy, disheveled dark hair, a torn lip. It is him, he discovers; this must be his demise. He looks the other way, and he thinks she's floating. He reaches for her bronzed arm, until his skin grazes hers and her eyelids flutter.

The clock ticks methodically, and he counts the seconds on his callused fingers. The blinds try desperately to hide the light, but it's morning, and he knows, and she knows. But her eyes are closed, and her chest is rising and falling in the usual pattern, so he figures he should stay.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Summer. They drown in the sun, gasping for air when the heat hits their skin, but this is California, and actually, he likes it. Sometimes, they stagger transversely along the boardwalk, stopping periodically to lean against the rail. He rests his elbows on the wood and cradles his chin in his hands, as the summer breeze wrestles his shirt. She shades her flawless face with her skeletal fingers, and flicks her tongue across her lips, waiting to speak.

"I don't think it'll ever look like this again," she whispers, gracefully pointing to the bursting sky, the sun lowering slowly over the sand, the waves crashing hypnotically against the shore.

"I've seen the sun set over the beach every day of my life. This is where we live, Marissa," he laughs, and looks away, missing her gaze.

"I know, it's just…I know." She bits her lip and knits their sticky hands together. He looks into her eyes, her pupils tiny, so that he can see the full jade sparkle. And he gets it, now.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

He finds it harder to breath when she's around, because the air is different, heavier, and maybe his lungs aren't strong enough for this. So he'll glance over her angular shoulder at the adjacent table and watch Summer smooth her hair, pouting perfectly at the admiring waiter. Inhale, exhale.

If you look at something long enough, he thinks, it becomes beautiful, in your eyes at least. So he studies her face, while she's sleeping mostly, when her hair is strewn across her features, and her eyes bleed into her nose in the darkness. He likes her better this way, melting into oblivion. In the light, her lips are too full, and her cheekbones are too sharp, and her eyes are piercing, and this. is. all. wrong. He squeezes his eyes shut.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Are you falling?" She cocks her head to the side, as confusion settles on her face. She sits up and leisurely crawls to the blasting stereo, pausing the music.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Seth," she says carefully, ruffling her thin, cotton sundress.

"Forget it," he snaps callously, watching her eyes glaze over. _Are you falling in love with me?_ "Sorry…"

She waves her hand, _It doesn't matter_. He tentatively joins her on the floor, lying side by side, pretending this won't end.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It's autumn. He's sure of this; forget the calendar, it's the sun, the air, the water. He doesn't wake up to her, so summer must be over.

"So, _this_, was…?" She pursues later, inadvertently drawing X's on his forearm with her fingertip.

"I don't know," he answers, but he does, and neither will admit it.

"A summer thing? A lonely-summer thing?" They both nod, and she quickly coils her arm around his slender waist. "Seth…"

"Don't worry about it," he states firmly, and kisses her forehead before leaving.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

He catches her staring, every so often, feeding a sad smile behind Ryan's back. A sore feeling sinks in his throat and he wonders why they'd even bothered. It's the nights he remembers, the ghostly hours, when neither could sleep and the beach was so near. He never means to, but he recalls the sand slipping through her shirt and mixing chaotically with her skin, like oil and water.


End file.
